The cloud cover is thin enough that the sun is creating shadows on the pavement. The weather yoyo is still in play here. One morning we wake to 61 degrees F, the next night I keep waking up freezing now that the between-seasons blanket has been put on the bed. The next night it never goes below 50 and night before last I again regretted sleeping alone in the altogether. But it isn't really monsoon season, mortars are quiet, and no one is shooting so it's all really small stuff.
We will not have to wait until Sunday morning for the slick roads. The new preview with thunderstorms hits a glancing blow tonight. I wonder if the white gas for my emergency camping stove is still good? It would be a sour mood I'd be in if I can't have hot coffee in the morning. But again, that beats being found cold in the morning. It's all relative.
Meanwhile, another reminder I live in a cave. I was reminded of that when trying to figure out Oldgrognard's code of LAPHROAIG. In mind that I have not broken all the codes like AFAIK, TTYL, I had to google that one only to find that I best check six by looking over the other shoulder too. It was really not an abbreviation! It may be that I am the only one not to recognize the name, but I do still have a bottle of another single malt which may or may not be of the same caliber. I acquired that one in Gatwick's Duty Free shop feeling it might be the last time I stepped in English soil. It was.
And that was before I went through security and has such an intimate encounter with the agent I thought I was staying for dinner and would have to share said bottle.
So yes, OG, I'll be glad to open that bottle but be warned, all I'll offer with it is dinner. Don't care how pretty your car is.
